Folie à Deux
by Violette Hysteria
Summary: When Eleanor left to work abroad she cut things off with Will. Now that she's back feelings begin to resurface, and suddenly she's thrown in between the growing relationship of Will and Hannibal.
1. Chapter I: Divite et Innodo

**If you read before don't be confused, I changed her name. A little idea floated to me and yeah. If you're familiar with the books you'll understand the significance of the name! Also Molly is short for Margaret! Also I've gotten several favorites and follows, but many less reviews! I would love to hear your opinion, maybe even some constructive criticism?**

* * *

It had been a week now since Molly had gotten back from the middle east, and while she was glad to be back in the states the memories were something she couldn't escape. As much as she wanted to put it aside and just not think about it anymore, but she just couldn't shake.

Friends, coworkers, and even her boss had suggested she take some time off work- what they meant was away from all the death- but that was just part of her job description. Besides, she was much better out doing field work than she was left at home to mull things over. Ella tended to over think everything, and sometimes thinking too much was a bad thing.

It was almost strange being back home after nearly a year of working abroad. Never before had walking through her front door felt so good, and never before felt quite so foreign to her. Of course her house was just the same as she had left it, but what about everything else? Had things changed much in her absence? There were some things she needed to get caught up on.

First thing that morning Molly had gotten a call. They hadn't given many details other than where to go, which was practically in the middle of nowhere. Pushing her car door open she stepped outside into the chilled air. There was a humidity that hung heavy in the air laced with fog, it left a nasty feeling on your skin. Grabbing her bag she slung it over her shoulder headed towards the little area already taped off.

"Margaret Leonas. I'm here to see the remains." she told the cop, an older man, plump with a heavy moustache over his lip. He nodded and lifted the tape for her to duck under. It was a marshy area, wet and muddy, right next to right on the riverbank. Gingerly she brushed sediment from the bones peering down at them with a calculating gaze, careful not to miss even the most miniscule piece of evidence. It were almost as if she was reading them with much precision and attention to every detail, and in a way she was doing just this.

"This isn't the Chesapeake ripper." she said suddenly, after several moments of silence.

"And how can you be so sure?" the policeman from before asked.

"You've hardly looked at them." he said almost as if her were belittling her.

The young woman straightened up raising her head and a single brow, her head cocked to the side.

"This woman was bound by her wrists and ankles for some extended period of time- it left stress fractures. She was later stabbed repeatedly in the torso. The knife left several markings on her ribs and sternum. There was no signs of surgical precision like in the other murders." she explained pushing a few stray strands from her vision. Molly had long, wavy, auburn hair that clashed with her soft pale skin and emerald colored eyes. Her side wept bangs settled nicely over her glasses framing her face.

"It was a crime of passion." a familiar voice came from behind. The woman stiffened a bit.

"Molly?" the same voice came. Her brows drew together and she turned. It felt like her heart had dropped in her stomach. This wasn't a meeting she'd been looking forward to.

"Will…" she said in a solemn like tone. "It's been long time." she said only stating the obvious.

"When did you get back?" he said hardly looking at her. Molly stood and he lifted the tape. Her eyes engulfed him. It was the same old Will she'd left, that was for certain, but something had changed, and she wasn't sure what that something was, but it wasn't good.

"A week ago." she said brushing off her jeans.

"How have you been?" she added. Will looked at her with a bit of surprise.

"I'm alright, thanks for asking." he said looking away. Margaret frowned. The fact that he was doing field work again totally disproved that statement. Will was unable to separate himself from his work; he always got to close and it only hurt him. That gift of his, however useful, couldn't be honed without harming him in the process.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I'm good." she said forcing a smile to her face.

"You don't have to lie to me, I heard about what happened in Iran." he said. It was Molly's turn to frown and she averted her gaze biting down on her lip in discomfort.

"I-I don't want to talk about that…" she said voice trailing off at the end.

Will nodded. "I understand, but you need to talk to someone. Keeping all of that in you masked away can't be good for you." his tone held nothing but concern for her. After all this time, especially after leaving like she had, Molly was surprised to find he still felt inclined to her like this. She'd hardly expected him to be friendly towards her, but that was a stupid thought. Will wasn't the type to hold grudges.

"You're one to talk." she said shaking her head. Time and time again had they had variations of this same conversation. The only difference was that the roles had always been reversed.

"I've actually been seeing a psychiatrist." he admitted. Margaret looked to him in surprise, a ghost of a smile highlighting her features.

"Good. I hope that's helping you." she said.

"It's nice- having someone to talk to. I know you feel like they don't help you, I don't either really, but-"

"Can I see Godfrey?" she interjected, cutting him off. Godfrey was her dog, that huge baby of hers that thought he was a lapdog. When she left Will had been more than happy to take care of him for her.

Will nodded pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"Of course. Anytime." he said his gaze drifting to hers, but he tore it away. Eye contact always made him uncomfortable.

"Well I should be getting back to the lab. There going to have the remains taken there. Hopefully we can get some particulates and I.D. the victim." she said gripping the strap of her bag that hung heavily over her shoulder.

"I'll drive you." he offered shifting in his spot obviously nervous.

"Thanks for the offer, but I drove out here myself." she said tugging at the sleeve of her cardigan.

"I'll see you again soon Will." Margaret said almost as if to be reassuring.

* * *

A deep sigh escaped her lips as her eyes scanned the papers laid out on her desk. Pictures, paperwork, all things she couldn't concentrate on at the moment. Running into Will had brought up a whole slew of feelings she'd been able to escape with distance, until now. It was clear now that she hadn't been able to properly deal. She really was bad about just shoving things aside and faking indifference, but now that was crippling her. Maybe she did need to see a therapist. As soon as the thought entered her head she pushed it aside, refocusing her attention on her work. There was only a few hours until her next seminar. The Madhavan Institute was a lab that worked closely with surrounding universities, and often had their P.h.D.s hold lectures. This particular one was something Eleanor had been working on for awhile now: The Interrelations of Psychology and Anthropology.

"Sheryll Dover. Thirty-eight and recently divorced at the time she went missing two years prior to being discovered. We identified her with dental records. There were depressed fractures to her skull, ultimately the cause of death. These are all just basic facts that we can get from minimal viewing of her remains. You can't just look for the basics you have to read into every detail, open your mind and perceive everything laid out before you. She suffered from several hairline fractures spanning from her ribs all the way to her phalanges on both her feet and hands. These injuries were premortem. It became obvious that this woman had been severely beaten before death. Anger, however strong, is the only explanation, although not a rightful one. There are patterns that separate murders from random to premeditated to out of desire to kill and passion. Everything from the condition to the placement of remains can help to determine these aspects of the murder."

Molly spoke in a soft, sultry tone ending her statement by flicking on a picture onto the board behind her. It was a grim photograph of the woman herself. Her flesh had decayed away leaving nothing but bone and dirty clothes that clung to the remains.

"Sheryll's body had been placed deliberately, much like one would be at a funeral. Her attacker had been angry, furious even, but most certainly remorseful of his actions. Many fellow anthropologists view psychology as a soft science with no certain backings to prove its authenticity. All I have to say to that is bones don't lie, whereas people do." she said coming from behind the large wooden podium. Her usual casual garb had been replaced with a nice blue dress shirt paired with a black pencil skirt and heels.

* * *

"I find your view of the interworking's of these two fields very enthralling." a mans voice reached her ears.

"Thank you." she said raising her gaze to the stranger. He looked to be right around middle aged, and wore a finely tailored suit.

"Doctor Hannibal Lecter, It's a pleasure to meet you." he said holding out a hand. This man, Hannibal had an air of sophistication about him that he just seemed to ooze effortlessly.

"Doctor Margaret Leonas." the woman smile grasping his hand that dwarfed her own. He smiled in return and her eyes met with his. It was a dark, depthless gaze that she couldn't read, but incredibly intense.


	2. Chapter II: Convivencia

The short drive to Wills was one she knew well. It was one she had taken time and time again, but never once had she ever felt so nervous.

"Good morning." she smiled. A swarm of dogs came out onto the porch all different shapes and sizes and she knelt down petting them.

"Oomf." she grunted falling back onto her butt a big black fluffy dog in her face. It was Godfrey. Molly wrapped her arms around the dog, hugging him like someone would do any other person.

"He seems happy to see you." Will laughed.

"I sure am happy to see him." she chuckled petting is soft fur.

"He's gotten so big!" she said glancing up at Will. He nodded holding out a hand to help her up.

"And he was so small when we found him." he said. Molly accepted his hand with some bit of trepidation, timidness perhaps.

"You've taken in so many all strays?" she said eyeing her hand in his. Neither of them made a move to retreat.

"Yeah, you know I have a softspot for them." he said sheepishly. His gaze averted, and he cleared his throat and drew his hand back to his side awkwardly.

"Would you like something to drink?" he offered. Molly nodded, following him inside, the herd of dogs in tow. Looking around she couldn't help but smile. Everything looked exactly the same as she remembered. That homey place that she always felt most comfortable at. Molly's own house was in town, but Will's, how secluded it was, reminded her much of where she grew up.

"Sweet tea?" Will asked from the fridge, peeking over from his shoulder. He knew iced sweet tea was always her favorite.

"That'd be great." she said taking a seat at the kitchen table. Moments later he returned. Sitting down across from her he slid a glass to her.

"Thanks." she said taking a sip.

"Shame that iced sweet tea's strictly a southern thing." Molly commented, just making some small talk.

"True. It's not something you can ask for in restaurant around here." he said with a chuckle. Small talk, painfully awkward small talk. It seemed so strange considering just how close they were at one time that here they were now talking about tea of all things. They once talked to each other about anything and every no matter the topic and now here they were struggling to make conversation.

"Have you thought anymore about seeing a psychiatrist?" he added, the subject taking a more serious turn. Margaret drew in a deep breath exhaling slowly, her tracing tracing over the glass.

"No, I haven't. It's not something I'd care to put much thought into." she said shifting in her seat.

"I'd really feel a lot better if you did. I think you'd like my psychiatrist, Hannibal Lecter." Will rambled on. The young woman's gaze snapped up recognizing the name.

"Hannibal Lecter?" she repeated thinking back to the man she'd just met days before. Will nodded shuffling around for something.

"Here, I'll give you his number..." he said scribbling down on a piece of paper. Will slid it across the tabletop to her.

"Thanks." Molly said taking it into her hands. For a moment she stared down at the digits before stowing the slip away in her bag.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" she asked glancing up to him for a response.

"Not yet." he replied. Molly smiled standing up from her seat.

"I'll make something then. You haven't moved anything around have you?" she asked stalking off towards the kitchen.

"Nothing's changed here." he said in almost a sad tone. Molly paused and a frown found it's way to her face and with it a regretful feeling came onto her strongly, but she pushed it aside. Pulling the refrigerator door open she peeked inside grabbing this and that. He was right, nothing here had changed, not even in the least, and for whatever reason she found this to be comforting. While things were moving so quickly around her as to leave a blur in their wake Will was here the entire time. He'd always been there she supposed.

"Nothing special, just bacon and eggs." she said placing the plates on the table.

"That's about all that was in there. I haven't been grocery shopping for a while." he said coming back into the room.

"I got a call earlier. It was from Hannibal... I mentioned you. He set up an appointment for you-" Will started in a careful tone. Molly sat down her fork calmly, and licked her lips.

"You did what?" she questioned cutting him off.

"He was very happy to work you in later today. You told me you weren't busy so-" he began only to be cut off once more.

"So you went ahead without asking me? I told you I'd think about it." she said sharply.

"You and I both know how 'I'll think about it' usually ends up for you." Will said visibly becoming flustered as well.

"Why are you so adamant about me seeing a therapist!?" Molly snapped. Will flinched at the tone and drew back a bit.

"Your co-workers contacted me. They told me about what had happened in Iran- they were all very concerned. Then when I saw you the other day I could see something new in you as well. I also care about you." Will explained. This time she had no retorts and no snappy remarks, all she could do was sit there and take in the extent of his words. The two sat in a silence for some time that only seemed to drag on.

"I'll go, but it's up to me whether I continue with the sessions." she finally said.

* * *

"Please, come in." Hannibal said from the doorway where he held the door open allowing his next patient entrance. His eyes flickered to her, a glimmer of recognition coming over him.

"Ah, Ms. Margaret Leonas. We've met before." he went onto say.

"It's good to see you again Doctor Lecter." she smiled walking on into the vast office. Like the man himself it was very baroque. High ceiling were lined with bookshelves filled to the brim with book. It made her wonder what sort of novels they were. The room itself was elegant with lavish art and other decor. This office wasn't like most. An office was usually and impersonal thing that one didn't put any of their self into, but his seemed to mirror him directly.

"Please sit down." he offered, and so she did. Once again she felt the full affect of his intense gaze, but this time was unlike before. This time she was sitting here as a patient, her mind laid out before him for his scrutinization, and that caused for some discomfort.

"You've seen psychiatrists before." it was both a statement and a question. Dr. Lecter's words were laced with a lovely accent from his foreign tongue.

"Yes." she said plainly.

"You stopped seeing each of them on your own terms, why?" he asked shifting in his seat. The man was finally groomed from head to toe decked in an expensive suit not a hair out of place.

"None of them were any help to me, I didn't like seeing them." Molly said. He nodded slowly and he pursed his lips as if carefully choosing his words.

"Is it because they were truly of no help or that you wouldn't let them help you?"

"I-I've never really thought about it, but none of them have ever been able to find the right words to help me."

"Is that because you already have a predetermined idea of what you want to hear- something you yearn to hear."

"Its because they say just what I expect to hear." Molly said. The man across from her cocked his head to the side. It was a thoughtful notion that beckoned her to continue.

"Meaningless, empty words. They mean well, but that's their job. Everyone is the same- people- they're all so predictable. They walk around going about their daily lives- their lives- but they all stick with the conformities laid out by society." she finished. For a brief moment she could have swore she saw some flicker in his eye, just a little glimmer that faded just as soon as it had appeared, but it was something. It was the first she had seen since coming in there. Usually Margaret had a knack for reading people, but when it came to him so far she was only able to draw blanks. There was nothing aside from his prominent exterior of fine linens and an air of elegance he expelled. It was a strange realization that peaked her interest.

"There is a difference between what you want to hear and what you expect to hear. One can only hope that they will be the same." he pointed out.

"I hope you come to enjoy seeing me." he added his lips curling up into a smile. Even so his expression was empty.

"that would be nice." Molly agreed.

"I'll see you next week." he said pulling himself up from his chair. The young woman nodded and followed suit. Like the gentlemen he was Hannibal pulled the door open and stepped aside.

"Goodbye, Margaret. Have a good evening." he said. Once again she nodded an awkward smile coming to her face.

"Thank you..." she murmured stepping through the doorway. "And you too." she added before exiting through the waiting room.


End file.
